


Not Lookin' For Someone With Superhero Gifts

by staringatademigod



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-05 03:51:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 16,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staringatademigod/pseuds/staringatademigod
Summary: What if Barry didn't get powers when he was struck by lightning?





	1. Chapter 1

Ever since Barry was struck by lightning, his life has been…Different. After he woke up from his coma, he developed some problems; the twitching, panic attacks, etc. Today is the first time in about a month that he’s gone out. Yes, he’s been in his house since he woke up; Joe and Iris would be lying if they say they aren’t worried.

With a shaky hand, he pulls on the steel handle, making glass door open and takes a small step inside Jitters. Gulping, he walks to the cash register, reaching in his back pocket. The barista asks the same usual question. “What can I get for you?”

Barry licks his cracked, dry lips, breathes in and out before starting to form words. “No f-frap, ha-lf caf, e-espresso shot, c-capitano, pl-ease?“ he stutters, sighing deeply. His fingers wrap around his brown leather wallet, pulling it out of his pocket. The wallet bounces up and down as he flips it open, fingers shaking, fishing for the five dollar bill. “F…For B-arry.” he says seeing the marker.

While he waits, his hands twitch at his side of his gray jeans. They’re always twitching. It’s so frustrating. He grabs his coffee, quickly thanking the man and turning around. The cup shakes from side to side and Barry’s surprised he hasn’t dropped it yet. That tends to happen a lot. With multiple things.

Suddenly a hand grips his thin wrist, steadying the cup of coffee. Your eyes meet his nature mixed green ones and you flash him a smile. “Careful there, handsome.“ you flirt, “Wouldn’t want to make a mess.” you giggle at his shocked expression, “Do you wanna sit with me…“ you trail off, eyeing the cup, “Barry? I’m Y/N by the way.”

Unable to speak, he nods, caramel colored hair flopping. He lets you take his coffee, following you to the table. “Th-th-thank you.“ he whispers, hands wrapping at the bottom of the disposable cup. “S-sorry about m-my st-stu-stutter. I was s-truck by li-lightning.” he mutters. Better to get that out now than later.

You watch him lift the cup, spilling some on the table, with wide eyes. Moving your fingers up your mug, you lean forward, “Oh, cool! I mean, that’s awful, sorry.“ you say solemnly. A moment of silence passes. "Do you have any scars?” you blurt out, “Shit. You don’t have to answer that!“

Barry laughs quietly, nodding. One of his hands lets go of the cup, coming up to his scarlet sweater. His nimble fingers hook around the collar, pulling it down to reveal the pale skin. There’s a pinkish puffy spiderweb sprawled over his chest, ending a little above his collarbone. “It’s li-like th-at all on m-my tor-torso.” a sigh leaves his lips.

Resting your hand on top of his, you shoot him a weak grin. His eyes light up but his other hand quivers. “At least it looks badass.“ you shrug; he giggles. Oh my lord, he giggled. Adorable.

Barry blushes, looking down at his coffee. Maybe leaving the house wasn’t such a bad plan after all.


	2. When He's Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two of you get cof- Wait, excuse me, TRY to get coffee.

For the past half hour, Barry and you have been talking. You learned a lot about him; how his childhood was, his friends, his likes and vise-versa. When he finishes most of his coffee, he can’t help his hands from moving. They shake against the table as he attempts to bring the cup to his face.

Accidently, the coffee cup slips off the wood table, spilling the small amount of liquid on the tiled floor, near a pair of heels. The women glares at Barry, puckering her lips. “I can’t believe you almost got coffee on my shoes! Can’t you get control of your limbs?!” she screeches in disgust, loud enough for everyone at Jitters to stare.

Barry can feel everyone’s eyes on him; it’s almost suffocating. His hands twitch, letting the shaking look more visible, so someone could see from across the room. “I-I’m s-so sor-sorry! I-I di-di-didn’t mean t-to!” he cries, stuttering extensively; tears prick at the corners of his mossy green eyes as he hears people snicker.

“I-I-I-I?! What’s wrong with you?!” she spits; Barry starts breathing heavily. That gets your blood boiling.

Frowning, you stand up from your seat, grabbing your mug and swirling the coffee around. In one swift motion, you tip the mug upside down; the remainder of your drink landing on the women’s heels. “Whoops! I’m not sorry.” you sneer, smiling devilishly before putting the mug down. “Let’s go, Barry.” you whisper, gently grabbing his hand and leading him outside.

You spin to face him, noticing his puffy red eyes and sigh. He looks like a kicked puppy. He curls and uncurls his bony quivering fingers, taking deep gasps for air. “I-I’m s-s-sorry, Y/N-” he staggers out, gulping, “I-it wa-s an ac-accident and ev-everyone was l-looking at m-me… I-I’m s-so we-weird!” he grumbles, gazing at his hands.

“Hey…” you whisper softly, shaking your head, “There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s okay, Barry.” you reassure, “And you are not weird. Not in the slightest.” you smile, gripping his arm; he flinches so you retract your hand. He sniffles but grins at you. “Sorry! I’m a touchy person!” you giggle awkwardly.

His fingers wiggle around his sweater sleeve cuff while his body twitches. It’s not that he doesn’t like your touch… “I-it’s ok-ay, Y/N, I…’m v-ery se-self con-conscious be-ca-cause of my sc-scars… They…l-look dis-disgusting.” he winces, biting his pale pink cracked bottom lip nervously.

You purse your lips, “Maybe one day you could show me them.” Oh, he definitely will show you one day; when he’s ready.


	3. Thinking Of Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A picnic date is perfect for Barry.

It took Barry months to get the courage to ask you out. When he finally got the balls, he was a bumbling idiot; at least, that’s what he thought. But you said yes, to his surprise.

The date is today and he can’t be any more nervous. He slips on his black and white converse, stuffing the cuffs of his light blue jeans inside. With a deep sigh, Barry inches toward the door, turning the knob.

In ten minutes or so, he arrives at the address you had texted him. A smile creeps on his thin face when he sees a cream blanket on a patch of green grass. The sun shines a ray over your spot on the blanket, making the outline of your hair shimmer. For a moment, he forgets how to breathe; to focused on you.

Peering over, you wave at him, motioning for him to come closer, leaning back on your heels. He staggers out a puff of air, wobbling towards you. His hands run down his jeans, thumping against his thigh repeatedly.

“H-hey, I-i th-thought we were go-gonna g-o ge-t lu-lunch?” he cocks a bushy eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. Those bright hazel eyes squint at the wooden picnic basket in front of your knees. He drops down on the blanket, feeling the uneven ground underneath his ass; he crosses his legs.

Shrugging, you unlatch the top of the basket, pulling out some veggies and sandwiches, along with some plates. “We are. I just thought you’d be more comfortable, you know, with not a lot of people?” you offer, smiling sheepishly; your charcoal V neck rising with your shoulders. The gray beanie slips down as you hand him a sandwich on a plastic plate.

“Th-that’s re-ally tho-thoughtful of you… Th…Thank you.” Barry beams; his heart aches at the idea of someone thinking of him. The plate shakes when he grabs it and he blushes, setting it in between his legs, hoping to steady it; that doesn’t work. “I-It mu-st be em-embarrassing to be o-on a d-date wi-with me…” Sighing, he picks up the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, gazing as it wiggles in his nimble fingers.

You frown, grabbing his hand. Your eyes stare at him in shock, lips open just enough for a breath to push out. “Barr, it’s been almost five months. I’m kinda surprised you aren’t embarrassed by me.” you chuckle, coming closer to his face; he cracks a little grin. “I am very happy to be on a date with you finally.”

A rosy blush spreads over his freckled cheeks and button nose as he looks down. “S-so am I-I…” he muses, raising the sandwich to his dry lips and ripping a chunk of bread off. “T-his i-is really g-good, Y/N.” he praises, noticing your sandwich is half in your mouth. Chuckling, he takes another huge bite, practically finishing the food.

Swallowing the bite, you cover your mouth, “Thanks. Made them with love.” you grin, shoving the rest inside your mouth. Wiping your hands on your bright leggings, you sit up on your knees, reaching in the basket, pulling out a piece of cake, “And I bought desert!” you rejoice, waving two forks around.

Barry’s face lights up, “Y-you’re the b-best!” he laughs as he plucks the plastic utensil from your grip. The cake sits in between the both of you and he tries grabbing a small piece with his fork. Once he manages to get the desert, he raises his hand up slowly; the cake wobbles until it falls on his pants. His face, along with the cake, crumbles.

Instantly, you scoop a piece on your fork, holding it out, just touching his lips. “Here, handsome.” you whisper, offering a tiny smirk. His lips pucker around the plastic, sliding the desert in his mouth. When he groans; long eyelashes fluttering, you giggle, removing the fork. “Good, I assume?” you ask, going to take a bite for yourself.

“Mhm.” he hums, staring at you in a daze. Scooting forward, the brunette leans in; hands wiggling on your cheeks as his lower lip catches yours, sucking on it slightly. The flavor of the cake lingers on his tongue after he pulls away. Barry thought that after he was struck by lightning, nobody would want him, let alone touch him. Oh, he’s so wrong.


	4. Pretty Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry gets self concious.

It’s tearing Barry apart inside; the image of you getting hit on by that jock. He saw the scene play out in front of his eyes as he stood in the doorway. Teardrops pricked inside him; he ran outside, suddenly feeling 100% more unstable than usual. His vision blurred with each step he took, racing to his house.

That happened about four days ago. Barry stares at his naked torso in his full-length mirror through watery lenses. Ugly pink plush scars scatter from his jagged collar bone, disappearing into his smoke colored sweatpants. He stands sideways, peering backwards; his shoulder blades flex, shifting together slightly.

His eyes outline the patterns on his back, “I-I’m disg-usting” he huffs, sniffling. No wonder you wanted someone else; someone better. Water leaks from his eyes at the sight of himself; his hands shake as they trace his chest.

There’s a knock on his bedroom door, snapping him out of his thoughts. His legs wobble over to the exit, long fingers wrap around the handle, pulling on it gently. Through the crack, you peek at him and he staggers a breath past his lips. His palm rests flat on the door, trying to slam it closed, but stops when your foot appears. “Barry, let me in, please.”

“N-no!” he shouts, wincing at his stutter. “Y-you do-n’t w…want me! I-I s-saw you fl-fl-flirting! G-go a-away, I-I’m ug-ugly!” he blubbers, trying not to break out in sobs. At least not right now; not with you here.

You stop pushing, furrowing your eyebrows. “Barr, what the hell are you talking about?! Of course I want you!” you frown, “Please, just let me in.” you pull your blue hat over your ears, fixing your hair in the process.

“Y-you’re go-nna be gr-gr-grossed o-out.”

Leaning against the door, your breath fans against the door, “I won’t be. I promise.” you whisper, hoping he will open up to you. After a few seconds, his hand falls, walking away. Taking that as an okay, you slip in the room, enveloped by darkness. “Geez, did the lights go dead?” you joke, searching for the lightswitch.

“D-don’t!” he shouts, cringing at the brightness. Your eyes widen, hand still on top of the switch. Barry can feel your gaze on his scars; tears welling in the corners of his mossy green orbs. “I-I kn-knew you wo…would. I-it’s okay. Y-you were p…probably go-nna l…leave an-anyway… I-I’m gr-oss.” he whimpers, turning away. He can’t look at you; he can’t.

Slowly, you walk closer to him; gaze raking over his exposed torso. With care, your fingertips graze the blotchy skin, sending shivers down his spine. “You’re pretty in my eyes.” you say sincerely, peering up at his tearstained red cheeks. “And I’m never leaving; I told that guy I was seeing someone… Barry, be my boyfriend. Please.” you whisper, tracing his scars with your index finger.

He inhales a deep breath, droplets still sprouting from him. “O-okay.” he nods.


	5. His Life Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You ask about what happened before the accident.

Barry would have laughed in someone’s face if they told him you were into him. But alas, here the two of you are, snuggled together on his couch; your body sprawled over his lap. He’s surprised that he’s not annoying you with his shaking frame. Nobody wanted to cuddle with him ever since the accident. He moves way too much.

Your hair flattens as you tilt your head against his plush chest. His long eyelashes glimmer in the sunlight peeking through the curtains, outlining his forest colored eyes, and allowing the faint freckles to show. There’s a delicate scar on his upturned nose, not as intense as the ones mapped on the rest of his body.

“What did you like to do?“ you hum, trailing your fingertips up his neck. He flinches, a pout beginning to form on his chapped lips. Right, that’s where his scars end; he’s really conscious about it. “Sorry.” you squeak, balling your hands up. “But, erm, you never tell me about your life before…You know… Not that you have to! I was just wondering…“ you whisper the last sentence, toying with the brown blanket covering you.

His adam’s apple bobs down, a staggered breath escaping past his throat. “W-well, I w-was a for-for-forensic sci-entist. I-I’m kind-kinda a n-nerd, s-so to sp-speak.” he says bashfully, blushing as his untouched hair flops against his forehead. “Not th-that y-you do-don’t al-ready know t-that.” he chuckles awkwardly.

You brush his chestnut mane from his eyebrow softly. You squint at him, “Were?“ you frown, fixing your position on his lap. “As in past tense?” you state more than ask, pulling yourself up in a sitting position.

Barry grins sadly and nods. “T-they told me I-I wa-wasn’t a…able to d-do my j-job.” he mutters, motioning to his fidgeting hands. “I…I, um, k-kept sp-spilling cer-certain chem-icals, m-messing up th-the ev-evidence. Th-they had to l-let me g-go.” he shrugs. The blanket suddenly is extremely important; can’t look anywhere else. “A-and my p-panic attacks w-were be-bec-“ he pauses, “happening m-more.”

Trying not to cry, you snuggle to his chest. “I’m sorry, Barr.“ you whisper, kissing his cheek. “Maybe I could help you!” you beam, causing him to quirk an eyebrow skeptically. “I know about occupational therapy and stuff, maybe we could try that!” you say hopefully.

He knows it probably won’t work. Yet, the cute sparkle in your eyes breaks him into pieces. “S-sure, Y/N. T-tomorrow? To-tonight I jus’ w-wanna pre-tend I ha-have a nor-mal life.“ he huffs, pecking your temple.

And who are you to deny him of that? “Okay, Barry.”


	6. Occupational Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two of you (+ Joe) go to occupational therapy.

“I-I want y…you t-to meet my f-fo-foster dad.” Barry sputters, looking at you bashfully. Your eyes widen a little bit and you huff out a nervous laugh. “I-… in-invited him to th-therapy tod-ay. I h-hope you ar-aren’t mad…” he winces, picking up the cup with a lid; one of your ideas, so his drinks won’t spill.

You put your hand on his, feeling it twitch on the table, you smile, sipping your coffee. After you swallow, “I can’t wait to meet him!” you stand up, dumping the remains of your drink and placing your mug in the sink. You try to contain your excitement; Barry had told you stories of Joe, how he took him in after his mother was killed and dad went to prison. “Speaking of, we need to get going. You might be constantly late, but I am not. So, come on. I’ll let you bring the coffee with you; not that you need it…” you mutter, grabbing his gray puffy jacket off the hanger.

When you hold it out, he slides his arms in, pulling it up his shoulders; he tugs your long black petticoat down, fabric bouncing with his hands as he puts it over your sapphire striped sweater. You grin, plucking the keys off the table and rushing to the car. He follows after, shutting the door and locking it. When he plops in the passenger seat, you start the engine, cringing at the loud puff and wheeze.

The drive takes a little less than twenty minutes, before you know it, wheels turn into the parking lot. Barry grins from ear to ear, not waiting for the car to stop as he swings the door open, jumping out and standing on wobbly legs. He looks like a newborn baby giraffe when he walks sometimes. “Barry!” you scold playfully; car screeching to a stop.

He totally ignores you, running towards a tall black man; his crimson scarf flapping around his neck. “Joe!” he beams, attacking his foster dad in a bone-crushing hug, hands balling into fists against the man’s back. Joe laughs, flinging his arms around the skinny boy, patting his back. You pull the key, opening the car door and getting out, trying not to coo at the sight.

Joe pulls away, gripping Barry’s shoulder with a wide smile, almost matching your own. “I missed ya, Barr. Happy you’re finally trying this.” he hums, fixing his black beanie, eyes shifting to you, then to the boy. “Well, are you gonna introduce me or not, son?” he muses, watching his boy’s mouth open in shock, blushing. “I’m Barry’s foster dad, you can call me Joe.” he smiles, holding his hand out to shake.

You latch on with both of your hands, shaking his gently. “It’s good to meet you; I’ve heard so much about you! Nice to finally put a face to the name!” you chuckle, letting go of his rough hand. Barry’s hand shakes, motioning for you to continue. “Oh right! Sorry, I’m Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N. Barry’s friend-girlfriend. His girlfriend; his girl.” you rush out awkwardly, cheeks tinged pink; both from embarrassment and the cold weather..

With a smirk, Joe scratches his goatee thoughtfully, pointing at you. “So you’re the girl he wouldn’t stop gushing about to Iris-”

“O-okay, th-that’s en…enough of that! L-let’s g-go in, b-babe.” he staggers out, wrapping a hand around your waist, speed walking through the set of double doors. A giggle passes your lips when he glances back at Joe with wide eyes.

You rest your palms on the shiny black granite top, showing your teeth to the receptionist. “Hi! We’re here for an appointment for Barry Allen-” you slap his chest with the back of your hand. He mutters a quiet ‘ow’ and rubs the spot. You cringe, “Sorry.” you hear Joe snort, lips shut tight. “It’s with Dr. Rice.”

The receptionist nods, pointing down the long hallway with a manicured nail that looks like a Santa hat. “Fourth door on your left, sweetie.”

“Thank you! By the way, nice nails!” you compliment, impressed. If you could get your nails like that… She thanks you, wishing you a Merry Christmas as you saunter down the hallway. “Let’s see…one…two…” you mumble, counting the doors as you pass by, “…three….four! Here we go!” you cheer, opening the wood door.

Barry gulps, stepping in the room, feeling Joe’s hand on his shoulder. The room is shaped like a square, a cream wallpaper on the thin walls and a tile flooring with blue specks, various crafts hang around the room, creating a more…childish feel. There’s a small kitchen with a stove, a sink and a mini fridge pressed to one wall.

The doctor shows up in a few minutes; she’s tall and appears as old Joe, graying blond hair swept up in a ponytail. She introduces herself, going over Barry’s file with the three of you. “You have chronic muscle spasms, right Mr. Allen?” she asks in a nurturing voice; he nods, keeping his hands in fists. “Alrighty then, we’re going to start slow, okay? This might seem…ridiculous, but it’s going to help in the long run.” she explains, getting up to get something. “I want you to write your full name on the dotted line.” she directs, pointing to the paper in hand with the thin pen.

Looking at you and Joe for support, Barry breathes in. You flash him a smile. “O-okay…” he hums, uncurling his right hand to grab the pen. He uncaps it, leaning down. In a shaky motion, he begins to write a messy B, followed slowly by an A, then R T H O L O M E W. He frowns, knowing it looks like children’s writing instead of a twentysix year olds.

“You’re doing great, Barr.” Joe encourages, seeing him stop at the R in his middle name. You hum in agreement, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. He breathes in, creating the Y and moving to his last name. A. L. L. E. N. The L’s look more like squiggles then actual letters but Dr. Rice reassures him he’ll get better with time. This was only the beginning of his occupational therapy after all.

The next half hour they talk about what he has trouble with and things like that. Dr. Rice waves them out the door, excited to meet next week. Joe hugs Barry tightly, “Proud of you, son. Maybe next time Iris will come.” he sighs, letting go of the boy. He turns to you, wrapping you up in his arms, “Nice meeting you, Y/N. I’ll see you guys soon.” he nods, rubbing your shoulder and heading to his silver Nissan.

Before Barry can open the car door, you push his back against the vehicle, tangling your hands in his scarf. “You’re gonna do amazing here, babe. I love you.” you kiss his lips.

He blinks, “I-I lo-ove you, t-too.”


	7. New People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Barry take a trip to the CCPD.

It has been exactly two months, three weeks, and four days since Barry has started occupational therapy, or, OT, for short. So far he is really improving, slowly, yes, but definitely improving. Though, when Doctor Rice had suggested going back to work, not to do anything, but just to observe, Barry began feeling anxious. It’s not that he is afraid of what people will think…well, actually it kind of is. He hasn’t step foot in the CCPD since the accident, which was…almost a year and a half ago. Surely it would be extremely different than he remembered. Is he even ready for this step?

To his luck, you offered to go with him, knowing you could calm his nervously. Today is one of his bad days; meaning this morning he had two panic attacks and a migraine that comes and goes. You told him he should wear his glasses, to help his migraine. As for the panic attacks, you are on high alert, let’s just say.

He reaches for your hand, tangling his nimble twitching fingers with yours as his black converse scuff up the stone steps. “I’m right here, babe.” you reassure, fixing the collar of his red checkered flannel to lay flat.

With an awkward smile, he continues walking, until he comes face to face with the glass door. He stops, eyebrows furrowing. Maybe he isn’t ready. He turns to you, pecking your cheek. “I-I ne-needed to d-do th…that. At l…least bef-ore we w-went in.” he blushes, pushing his glasses up carefully. You smile up at him, pecking his cheek in return, probably making him even more flustered.

His shaky palm presses against the glass, arm outstretched to hold the door open for you. You drag him in the department, so he doesn’t run back. Your shoes squeak on the white marble and police officers rush past you, making Barry’s grip tighten. Running your thumb against the skin of his hand, your eyes light up, seeing a familiar face. “Barr, it’s Joe!” you beam quietly, pointing across the office.

He perks up instantly, swaying your hand excitedly. Due to some cases, Joe wasn’t able to make some of Barry’s therapy sessions. Before you know it, you’re getting pulled across the room by your boyfriend, who’s mind goes faster than his feet can go. Expectedly, his left foot gets caught on his right, tripping himself and knocking over another guy in the process. Luckily, you let go of his hand beforehand.

Hooking your arm under his bicep, you help him up, lanky limbs flying around, trying to pick up the files, and his glasses, while standing. “I-I’m s-so s…orry!” Barry stutters, sticking his wiggling hand out to the man. With a broad smile, the man accepts the hand, standing up and dusting his Star Wars graphic tee off. “He-here’s th-the f…files. I-…I’m B-Barry.” he grins, holding the shaking folders out.

“Thanks man. It’s no biggie; to be honest, I wasn’t paying attention, so kinda my fault, kinda your fault. Potato, patato. I’m Cisco Ramon, I work in the Meta Human Division. Wait - do you work here?” the man, Cisco says rapidly, brushing his long dark hair behind his ear, grinning as he waits patiently for an answer.

Barry blinks, trying to make sense of all those words; his chest starts to feel tight. He glances back at you, breathing heavily as he tries to calm down. You rub his back soothingly, “Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” you introduce, shaking Cisco’s hand, “We’re actually visiting Joe, Barry’s foster dad. Hopefully, um, Barry can get back into the swing of things, eventually.” you nod, peeking at your boyfriend.

Another detective shows up, patting the man’s shoulder, “Cisco, don’t you need to get back to work?” Cisco scoffs, rolling his eyes and waving at the two of you. The blonde detective smiles, “Hey Barry, Joe will be over in a minute, he’s on the phone with Iris.” he shrugs, noticing you standing there, “Oh, hi, so sorry, you probably think I’m rude, I’m Eddie Thwane, Iris’ fiance.” he beams.

You introduce yourself again, nudging your boyfriend playfully. “T-th-anks E-ddie. Al-always good t-to see you. Y-you finally…m-meet my gir-girlfriend!” Barry tugs your waist, putting his chin on your head.

Eddie scratches the blonde scruff framing his mouth, leaning towards you, “Honestly, Iris and I thought he would never leave the house…” he whispers, cupping his hand around his lips. You giggle, peering up at the brunette. Silently, Joe walks up behind Eddie, slapping the back of his head. “Ow…”

Joe rolls his eyes, handing his partner the phone, “Iris.” he says; Eddie nods, waving and pressing the phone to his ear as he walks away. “Y/N! Missed ya, girl.“ he smiles, hugging you from the side. You laugh, pulling away after a minute. “Barr-” his voice drifts under your boyfriend’s.

“Joe!“ he rejoices, throwing his arms around the older man, his flannel riding up his back, showing a sliver of pale skin. Joe chuckles, patting his son’s upper shoulder. “D-doctor Rice s-s-says I…I’m ge-tting better ev-every week a-and, um, Y/N th-thinks I’m almost ready t-to st-start my job!” he beams, practically radiating sunshine. God, he’s like a little boy with his foster father.

Nodding proudly, Joe gazes at the two of you with wide brown eyes that look like melted chocolate. He raises both his fists; you pound one, making a blowing sound when you pull away, while Barry touches his to the man’s, giggling the whole time. The older man snaps his fingers, pointing at Barry. “Tomorrow Iris and Eddie are coming for dinner. I don’t suppose…“ he trails off, glancing at you with his lips puckered.

You salute, grabbing Barry’s soft hand, “We’ll be there!” you confirm, earning a glare from your tall boyfriend. The detective laughs, squeezing your arm for a second before somebody beckons him. “Duty calls.“ you joke, fingering your sky blue sweater.

“B-bye Joe!” Barry grins, pushing his black glasses up his nose before waving. His face crumbles as Joe strolls away, lips turning down in a frown. “C-can we go ho-home n-now? My h-head…“ he groans, pressing two of his shaky fingers to his temple, eyes screwed shut.

You hum, nodding and beginning to slowly walk, guiding him to the double doors. “We’re still going tomorrow.” Barry groans in response.


	8. He Hates Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry has bad memories about storms.

Barry has never been too keen with thunderstorms, especially since the accident. He didn’t tell you. He didn’t want to appear weak. He didn’t think it would matter. It really didn’t matter until tonight. The weather is brutal; wind wrecks the trees, causing them to sway near the apartment building rapidly.

Your arms wrap around his body like a comfort blanket, embracing him in warmth in the chill night. Rain hits the window with a soft pitter patter and his bright tinted green eyes stare outside, neck craned in an awkward position. He hates thunderstorms. The only thing that’s calming is the feeling of your arms around him; your head on his chest.

A loud clap of thunder makes him jump, lightning shooting across the misty sky. You blink your eyes open, peering up at his thin face. “Barr, you okay?” Your hand rubs his chest; the cotton white t-shirt creating a pool around his neck, showing a small patch of his stomach.

He whimpers when another boom shakes the house. Arms clutch your waist tighter, “I-I th…the thund-er. It…re-re-” his voice breaks and a flash of lightning illuminates the room, creating shadows with the furniture. Tears hang from his long thick eyelashes, making his eyes appear child-like.

Pouting, you sit up on your elbow, the loose lime green shirt slipping off your shoulder as you remove your hand from his chest, cupping his cheek. “It reminds you of that night? With the lightning?” you mutter, feeling him twitch under your touch as another thunder rumbles. You gulp back tears.

A whimper leaves his closed dry lips and he nods, nuzzling his head in your shoulder blade. The tiny cries he creates resemble one a puppy would make. “I-I’m s…sorry, b-b-babe…” he sniffles, entire body wrecking with shakes, blanket moving. Barry lets out a struggled scream when an extremely loud roar explodes from outside. Stupid weather.

“Why are you sorry? You don’t have to be sorry.” Your thumb brushes against his cheekbone, drying his waterworks. His eyelashes bat, teardrops wiggling off.

His shaking hands grip your hips, pulling you closer; gray shorts coming into contact with his black sweatpants. He rubs his cute nose on your cheek, flinching at the noises. “I-I nev-never told you a-bout… Th-that I’m sc-sc-scared of…” he trails off, suddenly guilty. How could he not tell his girlfriend his fears?

Pressing your lips to his, you comb your fingers through his messy brown hair. A shy smile teases your mouth, “I understand, Barr. It’s okay. What can I do to help, handsome?” you ask, sucking your lower lip and playing with his locks. He loves when you play with his hair.

A deep sigh comes out of him. “J-jus- can y…you hold m-me? Pl-please?” he mumbles, shutting his eyes. For a moment, the only sound in the apartment is the rain echoing through the window. Breathing in, he leans, cradling your head to his chest as your hand rubs circles on his stomach. “Y-you ca…calm me do-down…”

“Good.” you muse, eyelids starting to droop. His fingers wiggle through the strands of your hair, brushing it back soothingly. You could fall asleep. “Don’t…” you yawn, “Don’t forget tomorrow we…are going to dinner…at Joe's…” you whisper, smiling softly.

Barry sighs, focusing on your sleepy pout instead of the ruckus going on outside. “I kn-know, babe… Th-thank you, Y/N.” he mumbles against your temple, lips puckering. At least he’ll get through the night in your arms.


	9. When Your Hands Aren't Steady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family dinners can be angsty.

Family dinner has always been one of Barry’s favorite things. He loves getting to see Joe and Iris, now Eddie, and just relaxing. Except, he isn’t relaxed today; after the storm last night, he’s been on edge. He managed to squirt toothpaste on the mirror because of his tick and, as pathetic as it sounds, stood there, frustrated.

“You’re doing it again, Barr.” you sigh, brushing his spiky brown hair up into its usual swoop. He acts as if he doesn’t understand. “Thinking too hard, again…. If this is about the toothpaste incident this morning, I already told you, it’s not a big deal, sweetheart.” you mumble, cupping his cheek in your palm.

Instinctively, he leans into your touch. He got so lucky. “N-no, it i-isn’t…” he nibbles on his bottom lip, eyes shifting down to his navy shoes. His hands twitch at his side and he takes a breath. “Th-thank you… fo-for lov-loving me.” he gulps, green eyes peering up at you through his long, full lashes, “a-and not le-leaving when I-I sh-owed you m-my sc-scars. An-and he…helping with m-my OT…” he trails off, fingers curling around the bottom of his dark sweater.

Your face softens and your thumb brushes against his cheek bone. He is really handsome. “Don’t thank me for something I can’t control.” you giggle, standing on your tiptoes to peck his cheek. “We better go, if we don’t wanna be late.” you grin, taking one of his hands and bringing it to your lips. “Mwah!” He blushes, laughing slightly as you tug him to the door, stopping to get his gray coat.

Barry follows you to the car, hopping in the passenger’s seat. He likes watching you drive. On the way, he listens to your stories and relaxes in the leather chair. “H-hey! Yo-you get t-to me…meet I-Iris finally!” he beams, noticing your happy nod. He slinks back in the chair, shaky finger raising to touch the window, tracing some of the raindrops. He hasn’t told you this, but in one of his sessions with Doctor Rice, the only one you missed, they discussed depression. She keeps insisting that he has it. Barry never really thought about it since he met you; he is happy…just only when he’s with you. Is that a bad thing?

“Barry, what’s wrong? I feel like I can’t reach you…” Your free hand rests on his knee while you glance towards him. It’s almost like he keeps detaching himself from the world. He peers at you, mouth ajar, and shrugs, going back to the window. You frown when the light turns green, driving calmly. If he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you.

The car pulls into the West’s driveway and Barry…slowly opens the door. Doesn’t run, doesn’t grin, isn’t excited. This really makes you worry. You follow him up the stairs to be greeted with Joe, Iris, and Eddie. He cracks a fake smile, hugging each of them lightly. “I-I’m, um, go-gonna go u-use the ba-bathroom…” he announces quietly, heading down the narrow hallway.

When he’s out of sight, you frown, “Joe, do you know anything about…you know, how he’s acting? I noticed this morning and I…I’m worried. He won’t open up to me or anything… I found him crying over toothpaste when I woke up.” you whisper, waving your hand in the air while you shrug off your thin jacket.

Joe shakes his head, glancing at his daughter; Iris raises her hands in a ‘I don’t know’ way. You hum. “Maybe he just needs some time?” Iris offers, leading you to the table.

The strands of your off-white sweater danglie at your thighs while you sit down. You shrug, beginning to listen to Iris’ day. She is so bright and animated when she talks that it’s hard to stop listening. But after a few minutes, your mind wanders to your boyfriend. He’s been in the bathroom for awhile… “I’m gonna go check on Barr…” you mutter, standing up from the wood chair.

“Down the hallway, to the left.” Joe informs, gulping his drink.

You nod, flashing a tiny smile before heading to the bathroom. Stopping at the white door, you lean in, pressing your ear to the wood. “Barr? It’s me…you okay?” you ask in a soft tone. There’s no answer, just quiet, almost nonexistent, sniffles. “I’m coming in…” you warn, waiting a couple seconds. The lock clicks, allowing you to twist the knob, creeping in. “Oh, sweetheart…”

With puffy pink rimmed eyes, Barry peers up at you, lips slightly parted. He shifts on the closed toilet seat, body visibly trembling. “I-I-I w-want…h-home.” he says in between heavy breaths, watching you squat down. His chest feels like it’s being restrained and all he can manage is short, raspy spurts of air.

Cupping his flushed cheek, your thumb strokes his face comfortingly; other hand traveling up to his hairline. He whimpers a little bit. “Okay, sweetheart, we can go home.” you whisper, carding your fingers through his brown hair, slowly standing up. He grabs your wrist, lip quivering. “Shh, I’m gonna let them know I’m taking you home, okay Barr?” His head bounces up and down like a bobblehead and you carefully slip out of the bathroom.

A deep sigh escapes you; your hands scrub your face as you walk down the hallway. Something is definitely wrong. Why is he having a panic attack? Why does he want to be home all the time? “Hey guys, I’m, um,” you pause, running a hand through your hair, “I’m gonna take him home. He’s…. really anxious right now and -”

“We understand.” Iris reassures, nodding with a tight lipped smile, getting up from her chair. Her brown boots click on the wood floor as she walks to you. “Thank you for taking care of my brother. I… it means a lot.” She touches your upper arm, squeezing a bit. You bite your lip, nodding. Joe watches you go back to the bathroom with teary eyes, breathing a puff of air.

Slowly, you open the door, making Barry flinch. “It’s me, it’s me, baby.” you coo, holding your hand out to him, “We’re gonna go home now.” you repeat, helping him stand. He wobbles but manages to keep himself upright. Frowning, you rub his back in a circular motion, feeling how tense his back is.

Sniffling, he walks through the hallway, hands clenched into fists at his sides. A couple frail whimpers get caught in his throat and you open the front door, grabbing your jackets, waving at the three adults. Rain falls on top of his head; you drape his coat over his slender shoulders, shuffling to the car.

Barry climbs in the passenger’s seat with a frown, green doe eyes heavy. You get in on the other side, shaking stray raindrops out of your hair. Before you start the car, you turn to him; he’s staring out the window. “Barry, please, just… tell me what’s wrong.” you beg, Y/C/E orbs searching his face, subconsciously playing connect-the-dots with his moles.

“I-I…w-wa-anna go ho-home and b-e with y-you…” he sniffles innocently, his shaky fingers tracing the raindrops on the window. Doctor Rice is right. Barry is depressed.


	10. What I'm Looking For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We think Barry is kinda depressed.  
> WARNING: talks about depression

Barry doesn’t want to go to OT. He doesn’t want Doctor Rice to diagnose him. He doesn’t want to leave the house. But you make him get in the car. He can’t say no to you. So, now he’s staring blankly out the window, watching the scenery roll past him in a daze. Neither of you speak; the radio is the only thing breaking the silence.

He grows anxious, seeing the familiar curve of the therapy office and, to his disappointment, the car turns into the parking lot. Everything is a little hazy after that; he follows you in the building, to the usual room and slumps in the red plastic chair against the wall. He wraps his cream cardigan around his body sniffling a little.

You sigh, knowing well that he’s angry that you made him come. Except, he needed to; he has appointments every week. Turning your head, you frown slightly, noticing how off he looks. He has on a pair of gray sweats, a gray t-shirt over his cream cardigan with colorful patterns from the upper arm down; brown scruff covers the lower half of his face, making him look a year or two older.

“Barry! Nice to see you here.” Doctor Rice smiles, “And, always lovely to see you, Y/N!” she beams, long gray-blonde hair flopping against her shoulders as she pulls a chair up. You smile weakly at her. “Barry, do you feel up to doing anything today?” she asks, sitting down and crossing her legs; her gray dress pants scrunch a bit.

You peer at him, fingers fiddling with the end of your sweater. His eyes avoid the two of you and he shakes his head, crossing his arms. “I-I d..didn’t wa-wanna come.” he mutters, slumping in the uncomfortable chair more. He doesn’t want to be here; what he wants is to be at home with you.

With a quiet sigh, Doctor Rice glances at you, frowning. Her fingers flip through the paperwork on her metal clipboard, stopping. “Well, I’m glad you did because we need to discuss something very important.” she pauses, shifting in her seat. That makes Barry more anxious and his bland green eyes sneak a peek at you. “I’ve been speaking with your doctors over the past few weeks and, I’ve mentioned this before, we’ve diagnosed you.” she swallows, fixing her white lab coat, sky blue eyes softening. “It appears you have depression.”

You suck in a breath, feeling your chest tighten. Your boyfriend’s depressed? Why didn’t you notice? Well, you did, but you thought… Why didn’t he talk to you? You cough, trying to ease the tension and resist the urge to cry. Barry sniffles, “N-no, I-I ju-just…li-like my hou-house…” he argues softly, focusing on the pale yellow wall, tears clouding his vision.

“What-” you clear your throat, “What do…how can…” you puff out your cheeks, unsure of how to phrase the question.

Doctor Rice tears off a pink paper from her clipboard, leaning forward to hand it to you. “We’ve prescribed an antidepressant that he should take twice a day; one in the morning, one at night.” she turns to Barry, “It might make you drowsy the first few times, but that should wear off.”

Barry frowns, tucking his chin into his chest, scruff scratching his t-shirt. “I-I’m no-not dep-depressed….” he mutters under his breath.

About twenty minutes later, the session ends and the two of you climb into the car. After stopping by CVS to get his bottle of pills, you drive home in silence, blinking away tears. Barry frowns, face pressed against the cool window, watching the wind blow the trees gently. He just wants to go home; take a bat-

“Ca-can we t-t-take a ba-bath?” he stutters, face not moving from the window. The scenery of your road passes by and his eyes glance down at the gray pavement. A weight lifts from his chest when he comes to the realization that you’re almost home. Only a few more seconds.

You pull into the driveway, parking the car outside of your little house. “Of course, after you take your pills, okay?” He pouts, getting out of the car and stomping up the steps angrily, black converse squeaking against the wet wood. Sighing, you grab the CVS bag, following after him. When you get inside, you shut the door behind you, going to the small kitchen. “We can take a bath…” you mumble, pulling out the white bottle from the paper bag, “watch a movie…” You unscrew the cap, taking one of the pinkish-red pills out and grabbing a glass of water. “Anything you want, my love.”

His shaky fingers pick up the pill from your palm and he stares at it, as if he’s trying to make it disappear. He shoots you a pout, silently asking ‘do I have to?’; you bite your lip, nodding. Sighing, he places the pill in his mouth and takes a gulp of water, scowling at the taste. He has to do this twice a day? Ugh.

You grin at him, placing the glass on the small table and grabbing his hand. It twitches in your palm as you lead him upstairs, toward the tiny bathroom. You crack the door open, walking into the room. “I’ll start the water.” you say, doing so. Barry winces at the squeak of the rusted knob turning, fingertips hovering at the bottom of his t-shirt. You stand up, spinning to face him, “Do you want me to…” you gesture to his outfit.

“P-please?” he sniffles, cheeks tinged a light shade of pink. He still gets anxious when he has his clothes off; he’s not a fan of his body. Your hands sneak under his cardigan, pushing it off his shoulders and letting it fall against the baby blue tiles. Next you pull his shirt off, placing a kiss to his chest when he starts breathing heavily, tears stinging in his eyes. You let your hand ghost the waistband of his sweatpants, peering up at him. “I-I c-can…” he whispers, kicking off his shoes.

You nod, stripping off your off-blue striped sweater, followed by your bra, then your sneakers, and finally your skinny jeans. He blushes again, eyeing as you turn the water off, satisfied with temperature. “Do you wanna get in first?” you ask, hand running up his arm; he shakes his head, bowing slightly in embarrassment. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, I was just asking, sweetheart.” you reassure, tilting his chin up.

Barry smiles sheepishly, watching you step into the bathtub, relaxing in the warm water. When you motion for him to get in, he complies, easing himself in between your legs. “Th-thank yo-you…” he hums, leaning back into your embrace, brain becoming slow. He feels your fingers trace the ugly puffy pink scars on his torso lightly, but he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he sighs, resting his head on your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he focuses on the warmth of the water. You stare ahead at the wall while his body twitches against yours, mind racing. Are you really helping him? You kiss his temple, sinking lower in the tub.


	11. That Man I Adored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe gives you some advice.

Barry likes being the little spoon. He rests his head back on your shoulder, sliding his feet up the couch, bending his long legs. The red plastic cup is cradled in his shaky palms, wrists on top of yours. You hold his torso. He likes this; likes being cuddled, likes being at home, with you, likes feeling safe.

Slowly, he places the plastic straw between his lips, sipping up the coffee that you made him. A small smile, accompanied by a giggle, appears on his face when he watches Gordon Ramsay call the guy an idiot sandwich. “You think that’s funny, huh, Barr?” you laugh, tickling his chest, “You think that’s funny?”

“Y-yes!” he chuckles, eyes crinkling as he squirms. Another string of giggles comes out of him, making your heart flutter. At least you make him happy. There’s a rap on the door and he stops, brown scruff brushing against your neck. He does this when he doesn’t want you to move. He does this often.

You kiss his temple before leaning his back forward, allowing your body to get off the couch. He lets out a quiet whimper when you leave. Fixing your sweatshirt, you open the door. “Joe!” you beam, jumping up to hug the older man; he hugs back, squeezing tightly. “Can I talk to you outside?” you mouth, pointing behind him. He nods. “Barr, I’ll be right back!” you call out, earning a deep sigh from him.

Joe steps to the side, letting you come out onto the porch. His gray hoodie sways against his black t-shirt as he shuts the front door. “How is he?” the detective asks in his soft, calm voice, coming to stand next to you. He follows your example, resting his forearms on the white plastic bannister, back hunched over.

A sigh falls off your lower lip, Y/C/E eyes focused in front of you, staring blankly. The wind blows your hair around; the skies gray and cloudy. “I… I don’t know. I can’t get him to leave the house, I have to force him to take his pills, I… He just wants to be with me. And, while I love that, I’m worried. It’s like I don’t know him anymore… I’m just-” you take a deep breath, feeling an arm around your shoulders, “I’m torn.”

The detective hums, rubbing up and down your arm soothingly. Time for dad talk 101. “He probably finds comfort in you, Y/N. When Barry cares about something, he pours his heart and soul into it. And pours and pours…” he chuckles lightly, “Iris and I were thinking about him the other day… We think it’d be good to get him out of the house and Eddie’s birthday is next week…” he trails off.

“I’ll try, Joe.” you promise, standing up and hugging him. Your face buries into his soft t-shirt, hands clutching the back of his hoodie. He rubs your upper back. “Thank you.” you mumble, voice muffled by his shirt. He smiles, shaking his head. “I’ll, um, let you go now.” you sniffle, releasing him from your grip. Before he goes, he kisses the top of your head. Parenting.

Drying your eyes, you step into the house. “Y-Y/N?” Barry mutters, swallowing, waiting for you to enter the living room. Sighing, your bare feet pad on the wood floor, eyes drooping when you see your boyfriend curled in a ball. “C-can we g-go to th-the st-store? I… I wa-want sp-spaghetti…” he says timidly, playing with his gray tank top.

The store? It’s something. After helping him get on a sweater, you cup his chin, feeling his stubble in your palm. You had to admit, it looks good on him. “I love you, Barry Allen.”

He cracks a small grin, “I-I’m so-sorry i-if I sm-smoother yo-you, I ju-just… ne-need y-you.”


	12. He Really Loves Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Eddie's birthday! Time for being social!

Mornings seem to envy Barry. He feels your arms shift around his torso and does his best to stifle his whines, forcing his eyes to stay closed for just a little longer. He doesn’t want to get up and take his pill. He hates pills! And it’s so warm in your arms… Maybe if he holds your limbs to his just a bit tighter…

“Barr, we gotta get up, sweetheart.” you mumble behind his ear, reaching your arm up to stroke the growing hair on his pale cheek. His lips pucker into a pout at he nuzzles his face into the light blue pillow case. A sigh drops from your mouth; it’s always tough getting him out of bed. “It’s Eddie’s birthday today… Do you wanna shave?” you ask in a gentle tone.

He shakes his head on the pillow, fluffing his milk chocolate locks in the process. Another sigh flutters past your lips while you heave him up in a sitting position, much to his disappointment. His shoulders slump but he manages to get his legs untangled from the sheets. He knows that if he doesn’t get up, you will pull him out of the bed, like you did a few days ago.

Smiling proudly, you grab his lanky hand, leading his long hairy legs to the bathroom. He sleeps in his dark gray boxer briefs and a ratty old CCPD shirt. Your penguin pajama bottoms sway against your skin and your bare feet come into contact with the warm baby blue bathroom tiles.

When you turn the sink handle, you peer up at your boyfriend, who stares at you with tired eyes. Giggling faintly, you wet a washcloth, reaching up to wipe his face. “Someone’s sleepy.” you grin, seeing him blink at the cool dampness. The wet washcloth thumps on the counter. Your pale yellow spaghetti strap tank top brushes in front of him when you reach for the two toothbrushes, handing him his.

After the daily routine, you drag him back to the bedroom, standing in front of the small closet. Barry sighs, bringing a shaky hand up to scratch his jawline. He pulls on a pair of jeans, follows by an oversized red speckled sweater, plopping on the bed while you shimmy on a pair of black skinny jeans and a striped blue long sleeve shirt. “D-do we go-gotta -”

“We’re going, Barry.” you say curtly, gesturing to head downstairs. His polkadot socks pad down the stairs very slowly, followed by your neon purple socks. When he heads to the living room, you grab his bicep, yanking him to the kitchen. “Pill time.” you mumble, opening the cabinet to get the bottle.

The brunette whines in protest, eyeing the water filling up the glass. But, when you fork over the pill, he takes it ‘like a man’. It still tastes awful. His face scrunches after he drinks the water, giving you the the glass back; he almost drops it. You save it just in time. “S-sorry…” he frowns, corners of lips dropping to his brown scruff.

You shrug it off, setting the glass on the counter before walking to the door. Slowly, he slips his shaky feet into his black and white converse. You know he’s trying to be late; you know your Barry. When you get on your black Vans, you notice he still doesn’t have his shoes tied. “Here, sweetheart.” You bend over, quickly knotting the laces.

A blush morphs on his cheeks and he pecks your lips when you stand up. “I-I lo-love you.” he hums, grinning when he feels your hand on the side of his face. He loves your touch. It comforts him.

“I love you too, my pretty boy.” you beam, adoring the way his face flushes. “Now, come along, handsome.” You grab Eddie’s birthday present and keys off the side table before going out the door. Barry’s twitching hand takes the bright yellow sparkly bag, letting you unlock the car. He opens the driver’s door for you, allowing you to slide into the leather seat before climbing into the passenger seat.

Through the drive, his left hand clasps your right, thumb doodling on Y/C/S. He pays attention to your quiet singing and feels his chest loosen, letting him breathe. Yet, when he sees the lineup of cars at Eddie and Iris’ house, he has to grip your hand tighter, making sure you’re still here. Parking, you lean over, kissing him deeply, “You’re gonna have fun, trust me, pretty boy.” you promise, popping open the door.

A huff dangles from his lips and after staring at the gift for a minute, he exits the car, following you up the stairs. Your knuckles rap on the oak door and you smile from ear to ear as soon as it swings open. “Happy birthday, Eddie!” you yell, hugging the young detective, scrunching his dark green Henley.

Eddie puts on a goofy smile, rubbing your back shortly before pulling away. “Ah, thanks Y/N!” he says bashfully, peering over your shoulder, “Barr! So glad you made it, buddy! Everyone’s here!” he exclaims, tugging your boyfriend inside the cosy home. 

You trail behind the duo, eyes widening a fraction when you realize the size of the party. Practically the entire CCPD is here! Oh no, your Barry… You can see him shake like a leaf as Eddie talks with the other police officers, arm around his shoulders. “Y/N! You guys made it!” Iris shouts, one hand on your forearm and the other on your upper back, lips cracked in a perfect smile.

You chuckle awkwardly, fixing your hair, keeping an eye on your tall brunette. “Yeah, I’m really excited to be here! And not just for the cake!” you joke, toying with the end of your sweater while she leads you to the back, “Oh! Hello! I’m Y/N!” you grin, introducing yourself to a group of people.

 

*TIME SKIP*

 

Okay, you got too into the conversation and now you can’t find Barry. “I, um, need to use the bathroom?” you ask more than state, excusing yourself. As you brush by a few people, you notice Eddie laughing at the dinner table, finishing off his last piece of cake- by the way, the cake was delicious. But, no Barry with him.

“- shaved? Soon you’re gonna lose your boyish charm, Allen. Maybe even your girl… Still got that twitch, I see.” You hear a few gruff laughs and your blood starts to ignite. Oh, nobody says something like that to your boy!

Stomping into the living room, your ice colored shirt sways against your stomach and your heart drops when you see Barry. He’s slumped on the couch with his head ducked down, hands curled into tight fists at his sides. “Oh handsome!” you call out, causing his head to snap up, “I wanna go home and cuddle.” you pout, making the ‘come here’ motion with your index finger.

A couple of the guys’ mouths drop to the floor. “O-okay!” he shouts, hopping from the couch and racing toward you, stumbling a lot. But, cuddles! Oh boy, he loves, loves, loves cuddling with you! “I-I ge-get c-c-cuddles?” he asks, mocking a puppy as he bends over, arm outstretched due to your fast pace.

You nod, waving goodbye to Eddie. “Uh-huh, you get all the cuddles!” you say in a cheerful tone, masking your anger while you hop down the porch steps. Dropping his hand, you pull the keys out of your pocket, unlocking the car.

“Y-Yes…” he hums under his breath.


	13. When You Can't Sleep At Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry wakes up in the middle of the night.

Barry feels heavy in your arms. He isn’t sure if it’s because of his medication or if his limbs just are giving out. Sleep won’t come to him. His eyelids are partially shut, pale moonlight reflecting off the window of the bedroom. He bites back a whine, not wanting to wake you up. You need sleep.

His body keeps moving unwillingly and he frowns, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist. In an extremely careful way, he removes your arm from his chest, gray CCPD t-shirt wrinkling as he sits up. Luckily the bed only shifts a tad bit. Curling his hands into fists, he rubs his eyes; eyelashes scratching against his flushed cheeks.

Yawning, Barry steps out of the bed, toes flexing on the carpet before he pushes himself into a standing position. While stretching, he shuffles to the bathroom, feet creating soft sounds in the process. He waits until he closes the door before flipping on the lightswitch.

The reflection in the mirror stares back at him through sleepy eyes. A sigh falls off his lower lip, shoulders slumping. Why is she with me, he thinks. Turning the silver handle, water spews from the sink faucet, landing in the polished white bowl. He cups his hands underneath the water, gathering some and bringing it up to his face, wetting his scruff; his hands pause, pulling on his lips.

“Barr?” you croak, voice laced with sleep as you prop yourself up with your left arm; shoulder touching your ear. He turns his head to the door, pulling his lips from his hands at a slow pace. “Barry?” you repeat, scrubbing your eyes when you slip out from under the comforter.

Oh no, he woke you up. Twisting the doorknob, he stands in front of you, water droplets dripping from his chin. “G-go ba-ack to bed, b-babe…” he mutters, blinking tiredly at you. Instead of doing that, you swaddle your arms around his torso. “Y-Y/N, p-please….”

You shake your head against his t-shirt, yawning, “Can’t sleep without you.” You peer up at him, seeing his deep frown, forehead crinkled. “How ‘bout we get a…” you glance at the clock, “one AM snack, yeah?” Your eyebrow raises and you grin lazily.

Sighing, he scratches below his dark red boxer briefs, following after you. “Y-you ne-ed s-sl-sleep.” he mumbles, bare feet trailing behind yours. Ignoring him, you yank up your light blue pajama pants, hand curling around the fridge handle. He pouts, watching you pull out the leftovers from the other night. “O-ooo! Pa-pasta!” His face lights up, immediately plopping down on one of the chairs.

A smirk appears on your lips as you place the container in the microwave, pressing the buttons after you shut the door. “Mhm.” you hum, grabbing a fork while you wait for it to heat up. The quiet buzz flows through the house until the microwave beeps; you take the container out, closing the door again.

His forest green eyes watch you sit in front of him and he goes to grab the fork with a shaky hand. Except, you move it to the food, twirling the spaghetti around the prongs. Oh, you’re gonna eat first. Okay.

“Open.” you demand, holding the fork to his lips, container under his chin.

He arches a bushy eyebrow, “W-wha- oh…”

Suddenly, the stringy pasta is in his mouth, chunky sauce dripping off the corner of his lips, clinging to his brown stubble. A grin is painted on your lips, dropping the fork into the pasta. “This okay, love?” you ask, unsure if you went too far this time. Your yellow tank top rises above your waist a bit.

Chewing, he nods, messy chestnut locks bouncing around. “C-can yo-you ca-call me…um…” he blushes, swallowing and toying with his boxers, “B-baby bo-boy?” he questions, cheeks turning bright pink with embarrassment. Huh, Barry never thought he would say something like that.

Collecting the sauce dripping from his chin on the fork, you smile from ear to ear. “Of course, baby boy.” you muse, spinning the pasta around. “You’re so cute.” you huff under your breath, shaking your head. Barry’s lips crack into a grin. Is it bad he likes this? No, he doesn’t think so.


	14. I'll Take Care Of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take care of Barry.  
> WARNING: smut

Nightmares are common with people. They happen once in awhile, some people get more than others. Usually they aren’t real; usually nightmares are made up in your head…right? That’s what Barry keeps telling himself about the nightmare of you getting killed, just like his mother. With the lightning… the lightning that almost killed him too…

“M-mom!” he calls out, shooting upwards in bed. His chest heaves, taking short, yet deep breaths, left leg dangling off the bed. The soft navy sheets pool at his waist, palms digging into the mattress behind his ass, holding himself up. That…that nightmare…his mom…screaming… “M-mommy…” he whispers in a low voice, lower lip quivering, eyes brimming with wet tears.

Instantly after he sits up, you follow his actions, hand rubbing soothing circles on his chest. “Barr, Barr, it’s okay, it was a nightmare, it’s okay.” you try to calm him; feeling his rapid heartbeat hammering in his chest. Turning his head to look at you, you cup his scruffy cheek in your hand, thumb wiping away tears as they fall. “I’m here, my baby boy, I’m here.” you comfort, bringing your other hand to his parallel cheek.

Barry’s breathing slowly begins to even out, tears still falling at a steady pace. “M-mom… I-I ne-need - I n-need…. m-mommy…” he whimpers, wrapping his unsteady arm around your waist, pulling you into his torso. The mattress shifts when he nuzzles his head in your neck, messy hair brushing your earlobe. He feels so small, so frail…

You gulp, hand scratching the back of his hair. Wetness blossoms against your shoulder and your heart drops. “Hey, hey, baby boy, I’m here.” you hum, pulling his face off your neck, “I’m here, baby boy.” you repeat, pecking his pouty lips, feeling his arms tighten around your waist.

Lips suck on lips and he breathes a shaky breath of air in you. Suddenly, he feels delicate hands on his flat stomach, causing him to gasp. “M-mommy?” he asks, unsure if this is okay. Your hands push his gray CCPD shirt over his head, unkempt brown locks fluffing with the fabric. “I-I…” he trails off, shivering when your fingertips trace his pink scars.

“Shh, baby boy, let mommy take care of you…” you whisper, lips placing open mouth kisses on his pale chest, over his moles. He pops his lips together, panting slightly, body trembling underneath you. “Is that what you want?” you ask, hand traveling to the waistband of his red boxer briefs.

The sun is just starting to rise, sky a mix of pink and orange, light sneaking through the thin currents, hitting your messy hair to create a halo. Barry blinks away tears, nodding, “Y…yes. Mo-mommy, pl-pl-please take ca-care of me…” he mumbles, hard on starting to rise like the daylight.

Humming, you slowly take off his underwear, hearing his breath hitch in the back of his throat. “Of course, my pretty boy.” you grin, wrapping your fingers around his thick cock, causing him to let out a cry. His scruffy cheek hits the pillow case, tears in his jewel eyes. “Are you okay, baby boy?” you ask immediately, fingers twitching. He stays quiet. “Tell mommy what you want.”

Barry keeps his face in the navy pillow, right arm bent in a 90 degree angle so he’s looking at his hand. “I-I wa-wanna be in-in you…” he sniffles, cheeks heating up from embarrassment. You nod, understanding; getting a condom from the side table. Barry craves intimacy. “I-I wa-wanna to-to-touch you too, m-mommy…” he whines, feeling the latex roll on his dick.

Leaning down, you leave kisses on his collarbone, turning his face to peer at you. His eyelashes bat against his pink tinged cheeks, lower lip drawn in between his teeth, showing his jaw clench, hair moving. You peel your tank top off your body, “Then touch me, baby boy.” you purr, taking his shaking hands in yours, positioning them on your exposed breasts.

He gulps, fingers twitching on your skin. It isn’t like he hasn’t seen you naked before, you’ve taken baths together, but he’s never been like this before. Your pussy hovers over his dick, making him breathe heavy, chest tightening. “Mo-mo-mommy, pl-please I… n-eed y-you. Ple-ase.” he begs, tears spilling down his cheeks, disappearing into his dark dark hair, squeezing your boobs slightly.

Nodding, you wipe his scruff, biting your lip as you sink down on him. His eyelids hide his pretty green eyes, scrunching tightly and he turns his head away again, jaw clenched. “Is this okay?” you pant, giving yourself time to adjust to his size. The is worrying you; he looks like he’s in pain.

“Yes!” he shouts, voice rocky and eyes still shut, “G-god yes!” he cries out, whimpering while he gropes your boobs, thumb flicking your nipple. “Pl-please mo-ve, mom-mommy, please?” he asks, chest heaving heavily.

You rock your hips against his at a steady pace, bracing yourself on his chest. He breathes in short breathes, head shoved into the pillow, feeling your body bounce above him. The sound of his gasps and skin connecting with skin echoes through the small house; sweat drips off your temple, moaning as you feel him twitching.

Barry groans, brown hair sticking up on end. “I…c-can't…” he cuts himself off with another whimper. He’s close. “M-mommy!” he cries, tears leaking as he unloads himself into the condom. You keep rocking until you cum, eyes glazed in pleasure at the blissful moment, getting off him.

There’s a pregnant pause, followed by sobs. Crinkling your eyebrows, you roll on your side, seeing him shaking, crying hysterically. “Barry, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” you ask softly, reaching up to cup his cheek.

He flinches away, tumbling out of the bed, covering his face with his hands as he darts to the bathroom, slender shoulders shaking with cries. You go to follow but he slams the door. Gulping, you look down at your hands. You don’t know what just happened…


	15. Will You Ever Win?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of the sex.

Barry is embarrassed. He just cried during sex and…well, he can’t get up to face you. Tears drip on the baby blue tiles, creating little puddles in the white cracks. His arms wrap around his knees, which are pressed against his chest; chin nuzzled his legs. He doesn’t want you to feel bad…oh, but here comes the waterworks again!

There’s a knock on the other side of the door. “Barry?” you whisper, slipping your pajama tank top back on. “Can I come in, baby?” Your ear presses to the wood, only hearing faint cries. It’s hurting, not knowing what exactly went on. A moment passes and then the doorknob turns, allowing you to enter.

With red blotchy eyes, Barry peeks up at you, eyelashes feeling heavy. Swallowing, he sucks in a breath, “I…I’m s-sorry… Ev-everything hap-pened s-so fa-ast and - and I-I-I…” he sobs, gulping, wet tears streaming down, “Wa-wanna be li-like th-at all the t-time… I wa…wanna b-be taken c-care of…” he admits, suddenly feeling extremely small.

Frowning, you bend down in front of him, hand caressing his hairy cheek. You stare into his soft green doe eyes. “Hey, hey, that’s okay for you to feel that way.” you coo, brushing back his messy locks. “Just tell me next time, baby boy, don’t run away.” you crack a smile, tilting his chin up; he sniffles. “What do you wanna do today?” you ask, thumb rubbing his scruff.

Barry pauses for a moment, sniffling and gazing around the tiny bathroom. Timidly, he points to his left, gulping, “C-can yo-you gi-ve me a b-bath? I-I kn…know I t-took one th-th-the oth-ther day, b-but…” he trails off, ducking his head in embarrassment. He feels like a damn child right n- Blinking, he hears the water splash, tub being plugged.

Quietly humming, you wait for the bathtub to fill up before adding some soap to the warm liquid. You hold your hand out for him, grinning when he takes it, standing on his knees beside you, rubbing his upturned nose. “Whenever you’re ready.” you nod, brushing your hair out of your face.

Slowly, he climbs into the water, sniffling and sitting. His legs are slightly spread, shoulders hunched. You squirt some shampoo in your hand, inhaling the strawberry scent before scratching his hair. His eyelids flutter shut, a sigh pushing past his lips. “Th-thanks…m-mommy…” he whispers, feeling your fingers rake through his hair. You scrunch your nose, dipping your index finger in the bubbles, collecting some and painting it on his chin; he giggles, bringing his shaky hand up to do the same.

 

*TIME SKIP*

 

Shaking the blow dryer, his damp locks flow back, your fingers running through them. He leans into the embrace, lips upturned into a gentle smile. “All your life you’ve never seen a woman taken by the wind…Would you stay if she promised you heaven…will you ever win…” you sing softly, readjusting your knees on the fluffy carpet, “Rhiannon….”

Sniffling, Barry curls his legs against his bare chest, calming down. He hums along with the lyrics, awkwardly stopping when the blow dryer shuts off. He didn’t want it to end. But, sadly, you turn your head to the side, waiting until there’s another knock on the door downstairs. A sigh wrecks through him and he shrugs a soft navy t-shirt over his fluffy hair. He’s not putting on pants.

The stairs creak as you pad down them. “M-mommy….” he says timidly, making you skid to a stop, “C…can we d-do so-so-something la-later?” he asks, frowning deeply into his scruff while he plays with the hem of his shirt. Ugh, this must be so awkward for you…

“Of course, baby boy.” you mumble, shooting him a grin. Your hand twists the doorknob, yanking it open; pajama bottoms swaying on your bare legs. “Cisco!” you beam, taking in the Meta Human CSI. “What’s up?” You step back, letting him walk through the doorway.

Cisco grins from ear to ear, keeping his hands tucked in his pockets of his tan pants. “Actually…” he trails off, spinning on the heel of his violet sneakers, peering up at Barry, who’s leaning on the wall. “I need your help.” he cringes, pointing at the other man and pulling a plastic baggy from his pocket. The dark purple button down moves around his galaxy cat t-shirt. “I…I need forensics advice. Julian is busy… please?” he begs, big brown eyes squinting above a forced smile.

No, no, he hasn’t done anything like that since… “I-I c… I c-ca-can’t…” Barry shakes his head, retracing his steps back up the stairs, “I…I-I’m s-sorry…” he mutters, blinking back tears. He won’t cry in front of people, he won’t.

“Can you just please look at it, please?” Cisco tries again, craning his neck as he steps forward. You keep yourself from sighing. You know he isn’t going to.

Barry shakes his head vigorously, pressing the back of his hand to the side of his mouth, hiding the scruff on his cheek. “I…I c-can’t!” he shouts, racing into the bedroom. Your heart drops, sighing slowly.

Slumping his shoulders, Cisco bites the inside of his cheek, turning to you. “I’m so sorry, I never meant to do that, I just…” he trails off, gulping. He feels so bad. He didn’t mean to push him that hard…

“It’s okay, Cisco.” you reassure, gripping his upper arm gently. “He…he’s having a tough time with…with everything. It’s not your fault, I swear.” you smile sadly, eyes bouncing towards the stairs.

He frowns but nods, “I understand.” he huffs, walking to the door, “It was a long shot, anyway.” he shrugs, “But, it was nice seeing you. I probably should get back to work.” he grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets, sneakers bending on the edge of the door.

Nodding, you rest your body on the door, “You too, Cisco. See you around, hopefully.” you sigh, closing the door slowly. You let your palm press to the wood for a second before you venture upstairs. “Barr?” you call out, jogging to the bedroom. Your hand curls around the brass knob, jiggling it. Locked. “Barry, please!” you beg, trying the knob again. “Please don’t shut me out! Please!”

His body vibrates with sobs, but he manages to stand on wobbly legs, shuffling over to the door. Suddenly he feels dizzy. His palm slams hard on the wood, followed by his shoulder hitting the door frame. Sniffing, his hand spins the knob and there’s a click. When you enter, he doesn’t waste time falling in your arms, nose tucked over your shoulder. “I-I’m so-sorry, ‘m s-orry.” he repeats again and again.

Your mouth just touches his pale skin, worried eyes peering over his shoulder and arms wrapped around his torso, hands rubbing his back. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” you soothe, drowning out his whimpers.

Barry feels he’s in an earthquake; head spinning and chest tight, taking his breath away. Then, it all goes black and he feels limp.


	16. You Are Loved More Than You Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trip to the doctors.

Barry doesn’t really remember what happened. Apparently, he passed out in your arms. His head feels as if he’s on a rollercoaster when he manages to crack his eyes open. Oh god, it hurts… A whimper leaves his lips, tear ducts flooding all over again. He digs the heels of his hands in his eyes, rubbing at them harshly. Stop crying, stop crying.

The door to the bathroom swings open and you hurry towards him, crawling on the bed, knees on both sides of his legs. “Hey, hey, no more crying, no more crying, sweetheart.” you repeat, cupping his cheeks. He swallows, shaking his head. One of your hands slide up his face, colliding with his hair. “You scared me to death…” you sigh, “Joe’s on his way over right now…”

His entire body tenses, nose sniffling. “W-why?” he asks quietly, lacing his eyebrows together. Barry is so confused. You gulp, getting up and going to the dresser. “W-why is J-Joe co-coming?” he questions again, dangling his hairy legs off the edge of the bed. The sheets wrap around his lower waist and he watches you with weary eyes. “M-mommy?” he whines, feeling the soft gray joggers at his ankles.

“Because I didn’t know what happened and you just passed out and I panicked!” you snap, letting go of his sweatpants. He frowns, lower lip jutting over his upper one. A deep sigh escapes you and you pull your black aztec pattern cardigan around your yellow tank top. “I… I’ve done all I can think of, I… I want to make sure you’re okay.” you mumble, wiping your eyes with your thumb. Barry just nods.

 

*TIME SKIP*

 

His messy brown hair sticks up in different directions and he shifts uncomfortably on the thin sheet of parchment paper. Nobody likes hospitals. He tries not to glare at Joe. “You really gave your girlfriend a scare, eh, Mr. Allen?” the middle age doctor muses, shining the light in Barry’s eyes. “Looks like dehydration, from what I can tell. You’ve been drinking fluids, Mr. Allen?” Barry shrugs; the doctor sighs, “Mr. West, Miss Y/L/N,can I speak with you two?”

Joe and you stand, following the doctor to the hallway; you kiss his forehead on the way out. He frowns, sighing in the silence. One of his trembling hands scratch the scruff beneath his chin, eyes and nose scrunching. “Barry?” he hears you say in a weak voice, eyes blinking open, “I’m,” you cough, sniffling, “I’m gonna take you home, okay?” you hold out your hand.

Skeptically, he links his fingers with yours while he pushes himself up, looking at the cushioned table. “C-can we g-get B…Big Be-Belly Burgers?” he asks cheerfully, turning his attention forward when you lead him into the hallway. “I-I wa-want i-ice cream.” he states, slinking along, barely picking up his shoes.

“Yes, baby boy, we can stop on the way.” you agree, peering behind you. He grins from ear to ear, making you sigh. Barry’s happy, you know that. You can’t leave him, no matter what some old doctor says.

 

*TIME SKIP*

 

You bring the spoon to his lips, watching him slurp the vanilla ice cream. A content hum bubbles in his chest when he swallows. “I l-love you.” Barry cracks a small smile, watching you move the plastic spoon in the yellow cup, scraping the sides.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Nobody’s gonna change that.” you whisper, lips set in a tight line. He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow as you continue to feed him. When the container is empty, you toss it on the table, “Let’s go watch a movie.” you stand up, offering your hand to him, cardigan waving around your stomach.

Barry takes it, “C-can we cu-cuddle too?” he mumbles, allowing you to drag him to the couch. You nod, spinning around to cup his cheeks. Your thumb brushes against his scruff and he frowns, bringing his hands to mirror you. “W-what?” he asks, green eyes filled with worry. “M-mommy?”

You peck his lips, “Nothing, baby boy.” Yeah, you are not coddling him. The doctor doesn’t know shit.


	17. Drunk Barry Is The Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Eddie have 'The Bro Talk'

Eddie invited Barry over to lunch while you and Iris went out. He only agreed because you needed some time away from him, which he understood. Everything was going pretty okay, he hasn’t had any panic attacks yet, but then he slipped up. So, now he’s on the couch, facing the young detective who’s perched on the coffee table.

“Okay… we need to discuss what just…went on.” Eddie says slowly, knowing he’s treading on eggshells, nursing the mug of coffee in his palms. The brunette sighs, sucking his lower lip in between his teeth. “You called Y/N…mommy. Now, I’m not judging or anything, but… Um, I think…” he scratches his blond locks, “I think you should save that kinda talk for the bedroom, you know?”

Barry wraps his arms around himself, tilting his head to the side. He knows Eddie’s right; his cheeks flush. “I-I-I kn-know… I-it ju-just… m-ma-makes me fe-feel…” he trails off, jaw clenching, scruff moving. “H-how sh-should I st-stop, Ed-Eddie? Af-after everything I-I’ve been th-rough?” he swallows, mouth ajar; his gray baseball shirt rides up a little.

With a deep sigh, the blond bites the inside of his cheek, peering down at his coffee. His socked feet rub against the shaggy 70s carpet. “I know it must be traumatizing with everything that’s happened, Barr. I’m not saying wanting to be taken care of is bad. Believe me, I know. But, I’m saying…maybe you need to grow out of it. Not instantly.” he raises his hands, hunching to bring his mug to his lips.

Looking down at his hands, Barry nibbles on his lip. “Y-yeah…” he hums, hand traveling up and down his arm. Are these conversations always so awkward? “Th-thanks Ed-die. I ne-needed to hear th-that.” he nods, light brown locks bouncing slightly. Eddie flashes a nervous smile, sipping his coffee.

The young detective raises his index finger, waving it, “And, about your scruff-” he cuts himself off, noticing the glare Barry sends him. Okay, one battle at a time Thwane, he reminds himself. “You’ve never looked better!” he seethes, stretching his neck out, moving his mug to the side before bringing it back to his lips. He takes a big gulp, hoping to diffuse the tension. “Wanna watch the game?” he nods to the TV.

 

*TIME SKIP*

 

You and Iris drive back to her place after a nice lunch at Jitters. It was great getting out and talking with someone who understands. You talked about the ‘mommy problem’ and got some advice; ease him out of it. “Iris, I can’t thank you enough for that. It means so much to me.” you sigh, running a hand through your hair as you climb the steps.

Both of you stop at the door. “It was my pleasure, Y/N. Anytime you need it, I’m just a phone call away.” she beams, grinning from ear to ear, thin green jacket scrunching when she fishes through her bag. Once she retrieves her house key, she puts it in the brass knob, opening the door for you.

“Y-YES! LE-LET’S GO!” Barry screams, standing up with Eddie, arms at his sides. Both of them have their eyes glued to the basketball game on the TV screen. The buzzer goes off, signaling it’s time to switch players. “TH-THEY’RE S-SO GO-GONNA WIN!” your boyfriend grits his teeth together, reaching for his beer, eyes never leaving the TV. His hand shakes, spilling some on the floor. “A-AH FU-FUCK EDDIE. I-I DID IT AG-AGAIN!” he shouts, giggling. Eddie tosses a rag at him, focused on the game. Barry wipes the carpet with it, red converse rubbing.

Iris clears her throat, making the both of them jump. “Really guys?” she asks; Eddie clenches his fists together, smiling awkwardly. “You’re cleaning this up.” she orders, motioning to the empty beer bottles.

Barry gasps, tripping around the couch, “Y/N!” he says in amazement, causing you to giggle. The TV shuts off when Iris interrogates her fiance. “I-I-I…” he swallows, raising a finger, green eyes looking up. What was he going to say? “I…d-don’t wa-wanna be y-your…b-aby bo-boy a-all th-the ti-me…” he slurs, focusing hard on his words, hand on his hip, “I-I A-AM A GR-GROWN MAN!” he says proudly, rocking back and forth, “A-and I wa-wanna go cu-cuddle!”

Nodding, you hold his waist, “Okay, handsome!” you chuckle, watching him throw his head back, mouthing a ‘yeeees!’. Oh my god, this is great. “Before we go, wanna say by to Iris and Eddie?” you mumble, trying to contain your fits of laughter. Drunk Barry is the best thing to ever walk the planet; you are sure of it.

“No.” he says curtly, head still tilted. A snort leaves you and you grab his hand, waving to Iris; Eddie too focused on cleaning. “O-oo, i-it’s cold!” he giggles when you lead him outside, shaky hand scratching at his scruff. You shake your head, unlocking the car. He paws at the door handle, “B-babe, I-I C-AN’T O-OPEN IT!” he shouts, frustrated. You grin, popping the passenger door open. He gasps, turning to you, “Th-thanks babe!” he says slowly, getting into the car.

You climb in the driver’s side, putting the key inside. “You are so cute…” you mumble, backing out of the driveway. “So, I take it you had fun with Eddie?” you ask, spinning the steering wheel when you get on the road. “Barry?”

Suddenly, there’s soft snores and you laugh, seeing Barry passed out. You rub his scruffy cheek, smiling. Hopefully he’ll wake up when you get home; he’s too heavy for you to lift.


	18. For Your Entertainment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry shows you he's not powerless.  
> WARNING: smut

Why is everything so loud? Barry holds his palm to his forehead, forcing his eyes open. The sunset smacks him in the face, making him groan and roll over. How many beers did he drink while he was with Eddie?

His face smushes in the pillowcase, nose cracked sideways, half of his upper lip connected to the fabric. His left arm and leg hangs over the side of the couch, barely grazing the carpet. Footsteps approach and he shifts his tired green eyes up, not moving his body an inch. “H-hey Y/N…” he mumbles into the pillow.

Crouching down, you push his hair back, “Hey sweetheart.” you say softly, watching him grin sleepily. “How are you feeling?” you ask, fingers dancing over his dark brown scruff. The baggy navy CCPD shirt drapes off your shoulder, revealing you aren’t wearing a bra. His eyes shift down, noticing your boyshorts are the only thing covering you.

“R-really go-good.” he whispers in a husky tone, walking his shaky fingers up your bare arm. You shiver at his touch, raising a sculpted eyebrow. Slowly, he pushes himself up in a sitting position, cupping your cheek in his palm. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours, his scruff scratching your skin; lower lip sucking on your upper one. You gasp, feeling his tongue explore your mouth. Barry pulls back, trembling fingers collecting the collar of his gray baseball shirt, hoisting it over his bedhead. “I-is th-this okay?” he asks, lips millimeters from yours.

You nod, peeling off your shirt. “Ye- oh.” you moan, feeling him bite down on your collarbone, sucking on the spot after. This is…different, not that you’re complaining. His scruff rubs against your skin and his shaky hands wrap around your thighs, picking you up when he stands. Suddenly, your back is on the firm cushions and he’s hovering over you. What did Eddie tell him? Barry’s never this forward.

His fingers hook in your pink boyshorts, yanking them down your legs. With a heavy breath, he leans down, chest pressed to chest; you can feel his scars against your flesh. “I-I wan-na go t-to O-OT aga-again.” he hums on your jawline, nibbling on it. You nod, panting slightly. “C-can I-I sh-show you wh-what I-I can d-do?” His index finger teases your pussy, shaking faintly.

Moaning, you buck your hips up into his finger, making his eyes widen. He draws his lower lip in between his teeth, beginning to rock his trembling digit back and forth. With a loud gasp, you tangle your hands in his hair, tugging on it harshly. He speeds up, bicep flexing at the motion, adding another finger. “I-I’m no-not p-powerless…” he pants, looking up at you for confirmation.

You shake your head, grinding down on his lanky fingers, breasts bouncing in front of him. “No, no Barr, you’re not!” you whimper, head tilting back against the armrest of the couch. Barry cracks a gentle smile, positioning his chest on yours again; collarbone pressed to your lips. He parts his pouty lips, taking your nipple in between them, scruff brushing the soft skin. A moan leaks out of you, feeling his tongue swirl around your breast; knot starting to form. “Oh…”

Barry thrusts his unsteady fingers harder, curling them inside you, bobbing his head. With a loud yelp, you cum on his fingers, feeling him groan around your breast, scruff vibrating against your skin. When his lips pop off, he breathes a shaky gasp, looking at you through heavy eyelashes, “I-I’m s-”

“Don’t say sorry.” you reply sternly, cupping his hairy cheek. “That was amazing.” you praise, watching his face grow red. “What did Eddie tell you? Damn…”


	19. Anxiety Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry takes you out to dinner.

Dates are something all couples do. Barry wanted to take you on a date. He even called and made a reservation (with Eddie’s help)! When he told you that you were going out tonight, he didn’t expect you to burst into tears. But you did; they were happy tears, you reassured him.

So, he looks in the mirror at himself, fixing his dark gray blazer. The white crisp button down fits to his torso perfectly, not really leaving anything to to the imagination. With a shaky hand, he cups his lips, stubble scraping the pads of his fingers. He didn’t want to shave; he knows that you like his scruff.

Turning to the side, he peers at his form fitting pair of blue jeans, content with how they look. Gives him the illusion of an ass. He still has his notorious black and white converse on; they go good with everything. “Well, don’t you look handsome, handsome?” you snicker, adjusting your cherry red dress on your thighs, stepping into your flats.

Barry’s mouth goes dry. His green eyes trails down your body, cheeks heating up like a furnace. Reaching behind his neck, he shakes his head. “I-I’m no-not… Yo-you’re s-so bea-beautiful…” he mutters, swallowing hard. Wow, is he always this awkward?

Grabbing his hands, you stretch up to kiss him, leaving a faint color of your lipstick. A giggle comes from you and you lead him towards the door. “I can’t believe we’re doing this! I’m so excited!” you squeak, removing the car keys from their hook before exiting.

Calm down. He bites his lip, nodding as he gets into the car, watching you put it in reverse. As you drive, his legs bounce, fingers linked in yours, twitching. His elbow is propped on the car’s window, fists curled in front of his lips. It’s a quiet ride; neither of you talk, yet it isn’t awkward.

The moment you pull into the parking lot, his jaw tenses subtly, face stoic. When you park the car, he climbs out, racing around to your side to open your door. You smile wide, letting him lead you inside the fancy restaurant; palm resting on your lower back.

He gulps, approaching the host. “A-Allen?” he stutters. Luckily, the man nods, picking up a set of menus; the both of you follow him to a table. The lightning is dimly lit, setting a nice, quiet mood. A few minutes pass and he peeks around the menu, “An-any idea wh-what you wa-want, b-babe?” he asks, drawing his lower lip in between his teeth, hair moving on his cheeks with the motion.

Humming, you tell him what you’re thinking before the waiter comes for your drinks. When they leave, he grabs your hand from across the table, gray blazer scrunching at the crease of his elbow. You grin from ear to ear, “This means so much to me, Barry.” you gush, leaning forward, brushing your hair from your face.

“I-I’m gl-glad.” he whispers as the waiter returns, putting your drinks down. His chest tightens and his heart beats fast but he manages to order chicken broccoli alfredo. After that, you guys talk about random stuff, waiting for the food to show up. Barry loves hearing you talk.

Ten minutes later, your entrees exit the kitchen and appear in front of you. Grinning, you pick up your utensil, digging in. Barry peers around, hunching his shoulders while he reaches for his fork, curling his fingers. He stabs the slippery pasta, attempting to raise it to his lips; it wobbles because of his unsteady hand, dropping to the tablecloth. Frowning, he feels eyes watching him. “Try a spoon, love.” you beam, holding a spoon out.

He grins at you, replacing the fork with a spoon. This time the pasta makes it into his mouth. Nodding, you go back to your dish. “Um, Y/N…” he swallows, taking a breath. Before he can continue, you wipe the sauce from his scruff; his eyes watch you slowly, fluttering to your face. “I…” Focus. “I love you.” he declares, not stuttering any of the words.

He grows anxious when you stare at him, mouth ajar. Blinking, you try not to cry, swallowing loudly. “I love you too, Barry.” you pout, grabbing his lanky hand, “I love you so much. I… This is the best night.” you babble, at a loss for words. He blushes, glancing down. “You’re the best.” you whisper, tilting his chin up, fingers underneath his dark scruff.

“N-no, yo-you a-are.” he argues, leaning forward, pecking your lips. That feels like a weight is lifted and suddenly…it doesn’t matter what other people think about him.


	20. He Gets Exhausted Easily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry goes back to work.

“W-what if th-they la-laugh at m-me?” Barry frowns, tugging on his gray sweater. The wind picks up around the two of you, messing up his chestnut locks. “Wh-what if-if i-it’s like l-last time?” he asks softly, remembering back to Eddie’s party. His hazel eyes droop slightly, shaky fingers scratching underneath his chin, creating a noise with the scruff.

You sigh, cupping his cheek, rubbing under his eye, along his bone. “It won’t be, baby.” you promise, leaning up to peck his pouty lips. A frown stretches across his face as he looks at you disbelievingly. “Barr, if they do, I will fucking fight every goddamn person in there, I swear to god.” you state, pointing towards the CCPD building firmly, red cardigan hitting your mid thigh.

A giggle leaves him and he blushes hard, gazing down at his black and white converse. He tugs his sweater sleeves to his long fingers, sniffling faintly. “I l-love you…” he mutters, peeking up at you through his full lashes. “P-promise yo-you’ll pi…pick me u-up at tw-tw-twelve?” he begs, holding his brown messenger bag to his chest. You nod proudly, reaching up to fluff his hair. “O-only th-three h-hours?”

“Only three hours.” you confirm, grabbing his trembling hand and kissing his bony knuckles. Barry sighs, pulling you into him. “Then we can go get lunch from Big Belly Burger and go home.” you say, voice muffled by his shirt. His arms squeeze your torso, scruff brushing your neck. Rubbing his back, you pull away, “You’re gonna do great, baby!” you encourage, shooing him inside, smacking his ass before running.

Barry takes a deep breath in, tip toeing into the main lobby. He can do this. Straightening up, he head towards his foster dad and Cisco. “H-hey Joe…wh-what’d you wa-want me t-to do?” he gulps, clenching his bag strap, biting his lip. His mossy green eyes look between the two, anxiety bubbling inside.

Cisco grabs his shoulder, arm stretched across the brunette’s back while Joe gives a proud expression. “Barry, my buddy, mi amigo! Glad you’re getting back in the game. Let me show you to my lair… I mean lab…” he grins, leading Barry up the tan staircase, “It’s great you’re helping; between you and me,” he leans closer, “Julian’s being a total dick and blows my research off like all the time…” he whispers through gritted teeth, bright yellow button down flapping around his Back To The Future t-shirt.

Chuckling, Barry watches his feet pad across the tiled flooring, into another room. “So-sounds like a-an ass-asshole… I-I’ll tr-try to he-help…” he says bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. “S-so, what ki-kind of m-meta are w-we de…dealing with?” he questions, peeling off his messenger bag slowly.

 

*TIME SKIP*

 

“So…?” you trail off excitedly, tugging on his soft sleeve, “How was it?”

He shrugs, taking ahold of your hand, swinging it while you walk home, bellies full of food. “O-okay.” he mutters in a bland tone, making you glare playfully at him. A sigh dangles from his lips, “W-anna go ho-home… I’m s-sl-sl…tired.” he grumbles, feet dragging on the dirty sidewalk as he yawns.

Nodding, you watch him rub his eyes. “Take a nap when we get home.”

The moment you step foot in the house, Barry bolts to the couch, curling in on himself. Smiling, you run your hands through his hair, thumb brushing his hairy cheek. In seconds, soft snores come from him. “Oh Barr…what am I gonna do with you?” you hum, pecking his forehead gently.


	21. Barely Breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something happens at work.

Recently, getting Barry up and moving has been quite the struggle. After a couple weeks back, the CCPD has been exhausting for him. Today is one of his bad days. The type where his hands are extra shaky and panic attacks are more constant. It would have been nice if he hadn't gone to work. Or if Julian hadn't been there.

Panting heavily, the brunette’s shoulders jump up and down against the wall. He can hear Joe on the phone over the sound of his heartbeat. Through his teary eyes, he watches Eddie squat “Barr? Barr? Hear me? Y/N’s on her way. She'll be here anytime now. Breathe.” he comforts.

 

*TIME SKIP*

 

“Hey, hey, handsome, it's me, it's me.” you whisper, pressing the palms of your hands to the scruff on his cheeks. Very quietly Barry mutters your name between sobs, looking up at you through wet eyelashes. “Yeah, it's me, it's Y/N.” you nod, feeling his trembling hands creep to yours.

That was completely terrifying. A small deep sigh passes his plump lips and he slowly relaxes. “I… I-I wa-want… t-t-to go ho-me.” he begs, sucking onto his lower lip. Gulping, those puppy like emerald green eyes plead silently at you. “I...I n-need…” he trails off, leaning into your embrace.

Rubbing his leg, you fingers meet the fabric of his gray skinny jeans. “Okay, okay, love. We can go.” you mumble, helping him get up. Barry wobbles, steadying himself on his converse and drying his cheeks on the sleeve of his dark blue cardigan. “I'm here, I'm here.” you remind him, noticing Cisco go off on Julian.

 

*TIME SKIP*

 

Cuddles make everything better. That's a fact. Barry snuggles his face into your breasts, dark brown facial hair hiding behind your pale yellow tank top. His eyes are shut, mind focusing on your delicate fingers carding in his fluffy chestnut mane. “Y-you ma-make every...everything better.” Barry says in a hushed tone. “I-I l...love y-you. Ju-Julian s-said I...I was n-not fi-fit for t-th-the job…” he frowns.

“Well, he's wrong, okay?” you mumble, kissing his forehead. “He's an ass…. Don't listen okay?” you pout, “I love you too, Barry. Always.”


End file.
